


Blót

by NamelesslyNightlock



Series: Going Down Swinging [85]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Actual God Loki (Marvel), Betrayal, Blood, Blood Drinking, Bloody Kisses, Dark, Dark Tony Stark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Established Relationship, Fluffy Ending, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Human Sacrifice, Kissing, Knives, M/M, Manipulation, Marking, Murder, Nausea, One-Sided Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Possessive Behavior, Rituals, Runes, Seduction, Sexual Manipulation, Steve Rogers Dies, Twisted, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Violence, for Tony and Loki, poor steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:42:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27643625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NamelesslyNightlock/pseuds/NamelesslyNightlock
Summary: Steve has a very pretty smile. So pretty, in fact, that the sight of it makes Tony feel sick– but still, he smiles back. Because that smile is about to get him everything he’s ever wanted.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Series: Going Down Swinging [85]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1330490
Comments: 31
Kudos: 187





	Blót

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please make sure you’ve read the tags.  
>   
>  **Prompt** — _“Take my jacket. It’s cold outside.”_

Steve was smiling.

It was a pretty expression, Tony thought. The way that his lips turned up, the way that the blue in his eyes almost seemed to glitter with happiness as he gazed at Tony’s face.

It was a sweet look, and it was kind.

And it was a long, long way from the sort of look that Tony _craved_.

But, Steve was smiling– so Tony smiled back, plastering his lips with bald-faced lie. Not that Steve could see it.

Steve’s hands were gentle as he helped Tony up out of his seat, and they didn’t remain upon him any longer than was appropriate. Had it been anyone else, Tony might have been a little offended by their lack of lingering, but this was _Steve,_ and Steve was so very, very nice. He wasn’t lingering because he was showing Tony respect.

The thought made Tony’s skin crawl. He didn’t _want_ respect. Not of that sort, anyway.

And yet… this was what he had been aiming for, what he had been carefully arranging. He had spent _months_ plying Steve with shy smiles and carefully controlled blushes, all leading right up to this very moment.

A small shiver ran up Tony’s spine as he thought about what would happen so very, very soon, about his _reward_ for all of his hard work.

“Here, take my jacket,” Steve said, tenderly placing the garment over Tony’s shoulders. “It’s cold outside.”

The inexpensive, untailored blazer felt scratchy where it touched Tony’s skin, even though he knew, logically, that the material _was_ actually rather soft. It just wasn’t what he wanted _._

But still, he _smiled._

“Thank you,” he replied, pushing his arms through the too-long sleeves. “I appreciate it.”

Steve’s smile grew impossibly warmer. The prettiness made Tony want to be sick.

But the anticipation was building, so he took Steve’s hand, and allowed himself to be led out of the restaurant.

Steve began to lead the way back to the car, but Tony gently tugged on his hand, preparing to give just one last show.

Because he might be nearing the end, but he wasn’t _done–_ and these next few minutes would be the performance of his life.

“Actually,” Tony said, making sure to curl his lips in a nervous tilt, imbuing his voice with just the _right_ amount of hesitation. “I was wondering… if we could go for a walk?”

Steve turned to Tony, lifting a brow in curiosity. “A walk?” he asked.

“Yeah.” Tony shrugged. “I just…” he trailed off, and made sure to avert his gaze. “I just don’t want the night to end so soon, you know?”

Steve’s whole countenance softened, even as his smile split into a delighted grin.

“Oh, Tony,” he said. “Yes. I would love to walk with you.”

Tony smiled, and took Steve’s hand. And as their fingers entwined, Tony could only think about how Steve’s hand was too large, too _warm._

Tony’s palm was a little sweaty. Thankfully, that was probably normal for a first date.

The restaurant Tony had chosen wasn’t far from Central Park, and he felt a surge of smugness as Steve turned in that direction without needing any further prompting. They continued to walk hand in hand, making small talk that felt a little stilted to Tony, but which Steve seemed to enjoy. Then again, Tony had never really liked small-talk regardless.

Tony felt wound tight, his coils all ready to spring– and the moment he and Steve had made it deep enough into the park that the sound of traffic had turned only into a low hum, he tugged on Steve’s hand and pulled him into a stop.

Steve was frowning as he turned, a question on his lips—

But Tony didn’t give him time to ask it before he was slamming their mouths together, his hands gripping Steve’s shirt with a kind of severity that might have betrayed his impatience if he were kissing _anyone_ else.

But Steve just placed his hands on Tony’s chest, and gently _pushed–_ even though Tony could tell from the way his eyes were blown wide that Steve definitely wanted more.

“Tony, we shouldn’t,” Steve said. His voice was a little hoarse, as if the words were hard to say.

“Why _not?”_ Tony breathed, standing higher on his toes so that their lips could brush together again. “ _Steve,_ we’re both adults, and– well, _I_ know exactly what I want. Do you?”

Steve let out a low groan—

And then his hands were in Tony’s hair, pulling him closer once again. Even through his clear desire, Steve’s kiss was soft, gentle—

 _Too_ gentle. Tony pried Steve’s lips open with his tongue, kissed him with a touch of desperate _harshness._ He didn’t want to scare Steve off, but he needed him distracted enough to—

Steve’s hands bunched in Tony’s shirt as Tony pressed a hand of his own between Steve’s legs, smiling against Steve’s lips as he felt the slowly growing bulge. Absently, Tony couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been for the other man—

Well, it had certainly been too long for _him._

“Tony, wait—”

“Unless you tell me to _stop,_ Steve, I’m not going to,” Tony replied. “And think about that before you say it, because when I stop, I _stop._ We’ll go back to the tower, back to our separate rooms… or you can stay here with me, and see where this goes.”

Steve groaned again—

And this time, there was no resistance as Tony pushed him back into the trees, well clear of the path. Steve was totally gone, hands roaming with none of that respect from earlier, lips pressing hard, feet stumbling as he paid no attention to where he was going—

They tripped over, Steve’s back hitting the ground– but he barely seemed to notice. He just chuckled against Tony’s lips, and Tony grinned as he pressed down against Steve’s shoulders, pinning him to the ground—

And his grin widened as Steve’s gasps of pleasure turned instead to one of _fear._

“What—?”

Tony turned his head, the anticipation building as he watched the glowing green ropes of pure energy lash around Steve’s arms and legs, holding him immobile.

There was no other sign of another person anywhere in the small clearing they’d stumbled into, but the magic alone was enough to have Tony letting out a small breath of _want_. He knew that his actions were approved of.

He just needed to finish off with the rest, and then… he’d never be left wanting again.

The sounds of the traffic were gone entirely, and despite them not having gone even twenty yards from the path, Tony _knew_ that they would not be interrupted– no matter what was about to happen.

“Oh, Steve,” Tony crooned, sliding a hand first over Steve’s cheek before pressing lower against his throat, causing Steve’s eyes to bulge. “You really shouldn’t have trusted me.”

Steve tried to struggle, but it was no use– his bonds were too tight, too powerful.

“What are you doing?” Steve demanded. “Tony, what– what’s going on, why are you—”

“I’m sorry, Steve,” Tony said– and if he were being honest, he did feel a slight twinge of sympathy in his gut. But it wasn’t _regret_ , and certainly wasn’t enough to make him stop. “I know that I manipulated you, and I know that it was hardly fair. But Steve… I’m afraid that my heart and soul already belong to someone else.”

Steve’s expression blossomed with pure and utter _horror—_

And finally, Tony’s smile was _real_.

Not wanting to waste a moment, Tony reached beneath the overly large blazer and inside his own jacket pocket to draw out a knife. It wasn’t any ordinary kind of knife– he had forged it himself, after many gruelling failures and many more hours of hard work. The blade was made of both silver and ground bone, the materials blended together to make a strong and shining finish. The hilt was wood and treated leather, and the whole thing was carefully engraved with runes of worship.

It was a knife made for a specific purpose– and with a very specific person in mind.

Steve swallowed as he saw it. “What… are you going to do with that?”

“Oh,” Tony said, holding the knife against Steve’s bobbing Adam’s apple, enjoying the way that the silver looked against his pale, pretty skin. “I would have thought that was obvious.”

Steve struggled again, strained against his bonds, arched his neck– but he was no match against the force holding him down.

“Tony, _don’t,_ this isn’t you, you don’t want this—”

“You don’t know me,” Tony said harshly, his voice dropping to a hiss. “And I have never wanted anything more in my life.”

Steve opened his mouth once more—

But Tony was _done_ with the waiting, and he slashed one long, red line right across Steve’s throat.

Quickly, Tony slid off Steve’s chest and gripped his shoulders, dragging the gurgling man upright– and despite Steve’s weight he did it easily, the green lashings around Steve’s wrists pulling him up like a puppet on strings. Gripping Steve’s hair, Tony leaned him forward and tilted up his head—

And his breath hitched as he watched the blood stream down to the ground– hovering in the air just before it hit the ground, then swirling into a circular pattern.

As Steve quietened, hanging limply with his lifeblood pouring out him, some of the magic that had been holding him in place moved instead to the hovering pool of blood and hardened into a bowl of pure jade.

Tony was shaking, his whole body _trembling_ in anticipation, hardly even able to wait. But wait he did, until the stream of blood slowed, until Steve’s corpse was grey and as empty as possible, now that his heart had stopped.

The bowl was large and overflowing, and as Tony dipped two fingers into the warm, red blood, some of it slopped slightly over the edge.

Slowly, Tony dragged his fingers over his lips, his tongue darting out to taste. It tasted just as he expected it would, just the same as if he’d bitten his own lip– but there was just something _else_ about it that set his body aflame, and Tony knew that he was being watched.

So this time, Tony plunged both hands into the bowl, coating them before rubbing them over his face, down his neck. Steve’s blazer was easily discarded, followed by the rest of his clothes– and then he was rubbing his hands all over his body, coating himself in the blood he had taken from an unwilling sacrifice—

And as he turned his head to the dark sky, there was a single name on his bloody lips.

“Loki,” he said, his words barely more than a moan. “For _you.”_

Tony shivered as a cold wind blew through the trees—

And then he gasped as arms circled his waist, as a body pressed against his bare back.

“Anthony.”

Tony melted back against his god, his entire being singing with relief as he finally received a taste of what he desired– what he had been _yearning_ for, for so very long now.

But, he could not relax completely.

“You are not yet finished, my love. One last thing, and you will be mine forever.”

Those words might have been enough to send Tony into a spiral– but he refused to fail now. Not when he was so, so close.

So he forced his body to move– without even turning to look at the god behind him, he reached forward and picked up the still half-full bowl. The blood sloshed slightly as he lifted it to his lips, and the smell of it turned Tony’s stomach—

But he tilted it up, and began to drink.

The first few gulps were easy, despite the metallic taste, the blood sliding down his throat thick and warm. But the more he drank, the more uncomfortably it sat in his stomach, the harder it was to breathe through his nose without taking his lips from the bowl—

“Do not stop, Anthony,” the god crooned, his lips at Tony’s ear, his hands stroking lazily over Tony’s stained skin. “Do not stop. Keep drinking, for _me.”_

There was no one else Tony would have done it for– but likewise, there was nothing Tony would not have done for his god.

So he pushed away the nausea, he kept on drinking, almost half-way done—

He nearly choked when he felt fingers brush his cock, then curl around it properly and begin to _stroke._ But he needed to keep drinking, forcing more and more blood down his throat even as his hips jerked forward, thrusting into his god’s hand.

“Almost there, my love,” Loki crooned, his strokes so soft and loving, his voice so very dark. “Just a little more.”

Tony almost sobbed with relief as the last drop of blood passed his lips—

But the sob was caught in a kiss, his god turning him around, knocking the bowl from his hands, pressing their mouths together with a surge of desperation that had Tony gasping.

“Loki,” he gasped, out of breath, desperate, _needy—_

“Yes,” Loki hissed. “ _Now,_ I can make you mine.”

Loki didn’t stop stroking Tony’s cock as he pushed him backward, laying him down on the grass mere yards from Steve’s corpse– but Tony couldn’t even bring himself to care. He held on to Loki tightly, mewling under his touch, feeling horribly full and bloated but at the same time, not wanting Loki to _stop—_

Loki reached with his free hand to pick up the knife that Tony had dropped on the ground, and cleaned it with a single spark of that green magic which had held Steve down. Then he leaned over Tony, still pumping his cock in slow, lazy movements, his lips pulled into a terrible, twisted smirk.

The smile was about as far from pretty as a smile could be, and Tony’s arousal spiked further.

“Ready?” Loki asked.

Tony’s reply came in a rasp, but that made it no less true. “Always have been.”

When the blade cut through Tony’s skin, he couldn’t help letting out a cry– but Loki did not stop. He carved a rune just above Tony’s heart, just two short lines joined together in a sharp angle.

Thankfully, such a ritual was not designed to be taxing upon the _god,_ and as such, only the one rune was required. The rune was Kaunaz– the rune which symbolised creativity, passion, fire… _Loki._

And the moment Loki was done, he threw the knife to the side and slid further up Tony’s chest, drawing him in for one more searing kiss.

Tony felt Loki’s strokes quicken, he felt the god’s magic curl around them both in preparation of taking them somewhere far away, somewhere alone and comfortable and _private—_

“ _Mine,”_ Loki hissed, the word dancing across Tony’s lips in a final, possessive claim.

“Yours,” Tony gasped. “Forever.”

As Loki snarled possessively against him again, Tony came with the cry of Loki’s name and a promise that all the terrible things he had done were more than worth it—

Because he was now tied to Loki forever, and that was something he could never come to regret.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a kind of mini sequel to this right after I wrote it, and posted it ages ago. It's [here](https://quietlyapocalyptic.tumblr.com/post/615289411983310848/lou-my-beautiful-soul-blow-me-away-with-20), if you're curious.


End file.
